Harry Potter and the Goblins and other stories
by The Wayland Smith
Summary: Harry Potter discovers the amazing truth about himself when he visits Gringotts. Please don't take this seriously, even as a piece of humour. Oh and the pairing, I really, really promise it isn't romantic, but they are pretty much the only characters involved. Also any other little ideas I come up with. VERY GENTLE HUMOUR.
1. The Goblins of Gringotts

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

**A/N:** This is an attempt at humour, it may come across as heavy handed. It probably is. I read a rather generic fanfiction today and so at one in the morning I decided to try my hand at parody, probably not a good idea. This is a one-shot.

**Harry Potter and the Goblins**

It was the summer of Harry Potter's sixteenth year.

'Right this way Lord Harry,' said the goblin, baring in what Harry assumed was meant to be a disarming smile. The goblin _really _ought to have gone to Lockhart for lessons, and a dentist for that matter.

Harry stepped into the office of the Manager of Gringotts. Which is to say that time split into several different channels and several new universes were born. The theory of multiple universes spawned from each possible difference between everything and anything ever is true. What the theory does not account for of course is that most of these universes: the ones where Mrs Jones did not put out the rubbish the night before bin collection but in the morning and absolutely nothing came of it; the universes where people decided that red was a terrible name for a colour and really they would be much better off calling it tup and there were never any interdimensional travellers who made a mistake when talking about the colour red and so no-one ever cared; the minor universes in other words, are swiftly obliterated by the gods of tidiness (yes, they do exist). However, when major events happen, or the gods' favourites (for favourites read 'playthings') are involved time does split.

In one universe Harry entered the office and was given a run down of all his assets (which turned out to be vast) by the goblins, became a demi-god, collected a harem, overthrew all governments, killed Dumbledore and Voldemort and ruled over an anarchic wasteland from behind the scenes.

In a second universe he discovered that he was actually heir to the bloodlines of virtually every powerful wizard and witch who had ever lived (including the ones who had died without issue), killed Voldemort and created a utopia. Oh, and he gathered together a harem of such vast size that most of wizarding Britain was left without any children who did not share a father … for some reason gods liked to give Harry harems.

In a third universe … well let's just say that the goblins thought that the opportunity to take a vast pile of gold from a minor who was the only threat to a powerful Dark Lord, who shall remain nameless, who was going to take over the world without the boy's opposition was too good to miss. It was a pity that Harry did not fulfil the desires of several gods that he should create a harem and perform magical rites which had a history of at least, well, four hundred years, if we count the masons. The tragic accident he underwent lead to these same gods destroying this particular universe just after it had been filed and ruining the gods of tidiness' eternity.

In this universe, however, Harry entered the office and calmly accepted the chair which the director of Gringotts, and head of the goblin nation, offered him.

'So, Lord Harry, you have finally decided to claim your birthright,' stated the old goblin, stroking the loose folds of skin which dangled below his chin, 'how _interesting._'

'Um, yeah, about that …'

'I presume you will immediately want to review your finances and find out the terrible truth about the manipulations of that evil Professor Dumbl … I mean that man who so grossly wronged you. Not to mention …' the goblin's voice became suddenly sotto-voce, 'the many marriage contracts which your traditionalist, completely pureblood orientated mother and father put in place as soon as you were born with every available witch, and a few wizards too, there were. Even a few of the older ones …' the goblin winked.

'Older ones?' Harry squeaked.

'Old Tom down at the Leaky Cauldron has been eyeing his bride to be for some time, I am led to believe,' leered the goblin.

'Right, okay,' said Harry, substantially paler than ten seconds beforehand.

'Well, here is all the paper work, I had it specially made up for you …' said the goblin dumping a pile of papers perhaps two feet high on top of the desk.

'How did you know I was coming?' Harry asked, surprised, if not somewhat impressed by goblin efficiency.

'Oh, I have goblin seers observing the future banking deals of all major clients, my lord. Now if you would not mind just giving me a drop of your blood to check that you are who you say you are … perfect, oh my it seems Lord Potter that you are even more than you say you are.'

'I'm sorry?'

'You appear to be bearing a horcrux of the Dark Lord. We could of course remove it from you for a small fee …'

'Er … right …'

'Of course you don't need to decide right now,' the goblin smiled a toothy grin.

'Ah … you don't think I could just have a few moments in private do you? Just to read all of this over?'

'Of course, your lordship, it would be my pleasure,' grinned the goblin his voice oozing charm, at least he thought it oozed charm; Harry thought it sounded as if he had managed to get a cheese grater stuck in the back of his throat. 'By the way my lord, it might be particularly useful to look at these pages. I've placed them right near the top as a summary of all the details.' The goblin fairly apparated from the room.

Harry sighed and glanced at the top sheet of paper, it was he had to admit a very clear summary:

_A Bank Statement for Harrison James Fitzgerald Montague Tarquin Orion Odin Wolfram Cygnus Cyprus Windsor Plantagenet Grim Theodric Gaius Tullius Cicero Caesar Thurston Gwynfor Derek Potter …_ Harry blinked, 'Derek?' He shook his head and carried on reading.

_Assests:_

_Black Family Vault: 374,912,534,020 galleons, 12 sickles and 2 knuts._

_Potter Family Vault: 10,200,412,982 galleons, 14 sickles and 1 knut._

_Potter Trust Vault: 39,411 galleons, 3 sickles and 5 knuts._

_For details of real estate and non-magical property please examine document 63a._

_**Total available assets: **__385,112,986,414 galleons, 14 sickles and 8 knuts._

_Annual outlay since the passing of James and Lily Potter: 500,000 galleons per annum to be deposited in the account of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, by order of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore._

_Also by order of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore 100,000 galleons per annum to be deposited with Arthur and Molly Weasley._

_Also by order of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore 50,000 galleons per annum to be deposited with Petunia and Vernon Dursley._

_Also by order of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore 25,500 galleons per annum to be deposited with the _'Hurt the Kittens Because They Look Sweet Fund.'

_Also by order of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore 10,000 galleons per annum to be deposited with the _'Whip Harmless Animals Trust.'

_Family Lines to which you (Harry etc. Potter) may lay claim:_

_The Line of Emrys – by right of magic_

_The Line of Le Fay – by right of blood_

_The Line of Ravenclaw – by right of magic_

_The Line of Slytherin – by right of conquest_

_The Line of Gryffindor – by right of blood_

_The Line of Dumbledore – by right of betrayal_

_The Line of Hufflepuff – by right of blood_

_The Line of Gaunt – by right of conquest_

_The Line of Peverell – by right of blood_

There was a small addendum at the bottom of the document: should the claimant to these titles die he immediately cedes all titles and assets to the first claimant.

Harry blinked again. He sat back and wiped his brow. Somehow this all seemed somewhat unlikely. Still it was happening, but then why was it happening? As far as he was aware the only thing which could be regarded as unusual which he had done that morning was to read the goblin's name badge: _Griphook_. It could hardly be such a rare occurrence that it prompted a meeting with the goblin head of state, preferential treatment and a series of handy revelations could it? No something was definitely wrong here. _Think as Hermione thinks, think as Hermione thinks_, thought Harry.

Why would goblins do this? Answer, to give him this information, what was it about this information that they wanted him to notice though … there had to be some recurring theme. Then like the dots of a picture puzzle coming together he saw it, it was there right in front of him, Dumbledore's evil plan. _Yes_, whispered his mind to him, _Dumbledore is behind everything!_ Evidently he had been buying off the Dursley's to torment Harry, paying the Weasley's to befriend him and draw him into Dumbledore's net of darkness … Harry shook his head, it just didn't sound right.

The Weasleys were poor, admittedly they would probably be better off if they did not have seven children, but even that could not account for their financial problems if Harry was indeed effectively paying them thousands upon thousands of galleons a year. Unless of course Mr Weasley had a gambling problem; Harry could see him now at the casinos, throwing down his cards in despair as he lost a fortune yet again. No. That really was not likely.

So then, obviously someone had decided to turn Harry against the Weasleys, and Dumbledore. Who had the power to persuade the goblins, a notoriously mercenary people (a trait which they prided themselves upon), to do his/her will? Now who could want that? The answer came to him in a flash, there was a Dark Lord on the loose who desired nothing more than to destroy the forces of the light and wipe out forever the threat posed by the Order of the Phoenix; a Dark Lord who had an unhealthy (for Harry in particular) obsession with Harry! Harry felt somewhere in his mind a scream of despair. He sat back contentedly in the chair, he had worked it all out … and now he needed to get out of Gringotts without the goblins draining his soul and turning him into yet another Voldemort. He frowned, that might just be a problem.

* * *

_Another reality entirely …_

'Damn it Griphook! Why can't you send in the right one?' Demanded Ragnok as he brushed away the ash from the fifth wizard the underling had identified as Harry Potter.

'I'm sorry sir,' the other goblin replied, cowering away from his wrathful chief, 'It's just that they all look the same to me and when they read my name badge I assume it must be him …'

**Please post a review, I would be very grateful.**


	2. The Elder Wand

_**The Elder Wand**_

_**or Mass Production**_

_In which Harry decides that possibly advances in technology are good things and that there are worse things than being insanely rich._

"So Harry, _you_ are the Master of Death," said Dumbledore's portrait sagely as he looked down at the battered, bloodied and exhausted boy standing in front of the headmaster's desk.

Harry looked up and his one-time mentor and pseudo-grandfather, whose eyes still twinkled brilliantly behind his half-moon glasses, _despite the fact that he was an oil painting. _How the hell did the man do it? The first thing that Harry was going to do after he had finally got some sleep was to search through the Hogwarts library and every other library he could find until he could do that.

He looked down at the long, exquisitely carved, antique in his hands, "Yes, I suppose I am," he paused, lowering his head in exhaustion for a moment before he looked up once more, "I guess I better put the Resurrection Stone under some sort of protection though, anyone could just use an accio and summon it otherwise."

Dumbledore nodded after a moment's thought, "That would be wise. There are far too many who have lost loved ones, and far too many who will wish to reverse death for such a thing to be safe. You might want you use the Mirror of Erised for your purpose. Now that I think of it."

Harry smiled at the old headmaster's praise as it washed over him, soothing the wounds the man's manipulations had ripped open as if it were phoenix song. To his side Hermione looked surprised by the good sense of the idea.

"Erm, what are you going to do about the wand though?" Asked Ron, eyeing the Death Stick with hopeful interest.

In an instant Dumbledore's face and that of Hermione became grim and they spoke simultaneously:

"Well he's going to destroy it aren't you Harry?"

"I am sure you will think of some way to prevent its power falling into the wrong hands, hiding it away perhaps," Dumbledore suggested, finishing last.

Harry looked at the both of them in shock, "What, put it back in your grave for instance headmaster? Or perhaps the third floor corridor is free?"

Dumbledore smiled benignly not noticing Harry's look of horror.

"Don't be silly Harry, you have to destroy it, otherwise someone _will _either kill you, steal it from you, or defeat you for it. I mean, everyone knows you are its master now. You practically announced it in the great hall!"

Harry gulped, he hadn't considered that. Why had there been all that grandstanding with Voldemort anyway? It had given the man a chance to draw his true wand, which surely he wouldn't have been foolish enough to just throw away.

"What, destroy that? You'd give it all up, and for way? It's unbeatable. You'd be invincible, able to defeat them all!" Ron suggested, somewhat frantically.

"Ugh, I feel as if I'm carrying the _ring_ or something. Except the suggestions _aren't _coming from my artifact of doom but the fellowship," Harry muttered with uncharacteristic literary insight as the two quarreled behind him.

"Well Harry? I admit my heart suffers at the thought of destroying the supreme example of the wandmaker's art, but I fear Ms Granger is right. Otherwise you _will _be in constant peril and the wand's curse will go on forever," Dumbledore pointed out kindly.

Harry frowned and then held up a hand for silence. The whispering of the other portraits died away. The silver instruments humming in their perches quieted and fell silent. Even Ron and Hermione paused in their argument.

"People have always wanted this wand because it is the best, haven't they?" The question was undoubtably addressed to Dumbledore who nodded slowly. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Yes, what of it?" He asked with some trepidation.

"Well, would anyone want it if it were no more powerful than ordinary wands or vice versa?"

"I doubt it ... although it is something of a collectors piece," began Dumbledore, about to point out that it was an item thought to help you become _MASTER OF DEATH!_

Harry cut him off, "And it seems to suit all wizards?" Harry pressed on regardless of the worried looks coming from the others the seeds of a brilliant idea were already growing in his brain.

"Well yes, but only because it is taken from the previous owner by force."

That stilled Harry for a moment, "Hmm, on reflection I think I see a way around that. By the way, did Gregorovitch really study it?"

"I have always thought not. His wands were no more powerful than Ollivander's or any other wandmakers. It was too precious to him. How he even came to it I know not. I do not believe he was its natural master, for he never fought or stole in his life. I think another left it with him, not knowing what it was. So he could never truly study it."

Harry grinned widely, "I'm afraid you must all excuse me. I believe that I have some business with Mr Ollivander," he caught sight of his best mate's expression, "don't worry Ron, I'm not about to destroy it. And Hermione? Trust me this is going to turn out just fine."

* * *

_Three Years Later:_

There was a new shop on the main part of the area commonly known as Diagon Alley. It was _Ollivander's and Potter's, Purveyors of the Finest Wands_, and it was true, they were. Ollivander had done most of the actual work and testing, Harry helping out as an apprentice, but they had done it. The wand Mark ... well whatever it was by now was ready. An advancement in wandlore which had taken approximately seven hundred years to come into common use had finally come through.

It had been an incredible boost not only for Ollivander's business, but for that of all of Britain as people from around the world had flocked to replace their outdated wands. Who wanted _the _elder wand anyway now? All you had to do was go and buy your own.

And if the _real _Elder Wand was a _shade_ more powerful than any of the copies? Well no one needed to know that. Nor did they really need to know that with Ministry approval there had been a new enchantment secreted in wands made after the Battle of Hogwarts: they could not cast the Unforgivables, or to be more precise if anyone attempted to cast higher end dark magic with them the wand was designed to explode. If that enchantment was removed, well there were a few surruptitiously placed tracking charms in the wand. All of those charms had been placed there with Harry's own Elder Wand making them, for the moment, pretty much unbreakable. Lucky really that the power difference was not that difficult to increase by only a margin. Harry and Ollivander reckoned they'd have a few years before any of their competitors worked it out and by then the next improvement would already be on sale.

And if the _real_ Elder Wand was still a _shade _more powerful? And if it really was a wand fashioned by Death? Well there should be some time to figure out what he could do with it Harry reckoned. How long did it take to make the philosopher's stone when your wand had the potential to raise you to godhood?

* * *

Unfortunately for Harry there were a _lot _of collectors out there. Collectors who really didn't care if they could get their own Elder Wand. That and the prestige of defeating the Boy-Who-Tried-To-Cheat-Death for your average Dark Lord on the rise was much too much. Let it just be said that Harry was going to have his work cut out.


End file.
